Shadows at Midnight
by international.leprechaun
Summary: This is the story a girl named Ali that I didn't know which category to put it in but it's still to do with dragons. it's got elements of the famous Hunger Games but nothing really that obvious. Hope you enjoy
1. Night forest

**Hi, this is a new story I am writing, it's not really got to do with anything I have ever read before although it's a bit like the Hunger Games a bit like How to train your dragon and something like Eragon. Hope you like it. Disclaimer: I do not own any of the books mentioned above but I don't know why I put this here since I never claimed I did and this story has almost nothing to do with them anyway.**

I awake, from my short and dreamless sleep.

I'm alone, lying in my not-too-soft wooden bed. My long brown hair all over the pillow and my freckled face.

I'm in my bedroom by the stairs that lead down to the first floor of the small hut I live in. Listening for the door of my father's room to shut in the dark of the night. I hear him even now, downstairs carving a new weapon for the boy he is training.

Waiting so that I can sneak out, quiet as a mouse, to the backyard. Then climb over our stonewall and escape in to the forbidden-to-women woods just beyond.

Being female in our village is to no advantage, not for me anyways.

Some of the girls my age say you get to rest all day. Some older women say it's necessary. But I just find it plain boring. We do the same thing over and over again;

Wake up. Make breakfast. Gather fruit, vegetables and useful herbs. Make lunch. Do laundry. Make dinner. Got to bed.

Repeat.

I do these 365 days a year, 52 weeks a year, 7 days a week, 24 hours a day.

I'm 14 now, and every single day it's been the exact same.

The only time you can ever have a break from the dull repetitive work, is if you're sick or on death's doorstep, but never else.

By being the only girl in my family, I have no one that can advise me, which can help me with the burden like the rest of the girls my age. Plus I have to do more work.

They're lucky. I wish my mother were still here.

Women in my village are also not allowed to be outside the village, which is why I wait or my father to go to sleep before I sneak out.

Only when going to the nearby fields and ponds to gather, that we can get out of the confines of the village.

The men say it's dangerous out there. The women say they prefer to stay in the "safe" village anyway, but I still go.

I finally hear the click of the lock on my father's bedroom door; I've learnt to recognize it over the years.

Excited, I throw off my covers and silently creep out of my room. I place some pillows on my bed and cover them with my blanket, just in case my father happens to come in.

On the way down the old, creaking stairs, I knock down a frame with a picture of my mother holding me as a baby. It reads: _Alexa our first daughter_. That's me.

This rather small frame makes quite a racket. I hold my breath, tensed, hoping nor my father nor my brother wake up to the noise.

Silence.

Carefully, so not to knock anything else over, like the similar frame with my brother, I bend down. Pick up the wooden frame and place it back on the shelf where it belongs. I then continue down the stairs.

I feel relief; no one woke up. I've been caught by my father before, having to make up stupid excuses that I don't think he believed. I don't want that to happen again.

It's dark in the small living room and kitchen but I'm used to it, seeing as I do this every night.

I grab a brush from the bathroom and pull it through my hair and then braid it down my back with quick nimble fingers. My long hair, now braided, isn't as messy as before.

Retrieving my leather shoes and my bag from the wardrobe, I quietly tiptoe to the back door, careful not to touch anything fragile that has potential to break or fall. I creep across the completely still house.

The starlight coming from the windows, casts long shadows in the rooms. This makes it look like a million strange animals are lurking in the confined space with me.

Once I'm outside, free from the house, I sprint over the grass to the far stonewall and expertly climb over.

On the other side of the wall I take off my indoor sandals and hide them in the bushes in case the guards come by on their patrol. I then pull on my leather boots and grab my weapon; a bow I had spent nearly a month carving and a quiver of arrows I had stolen from my father. He never noticed they went missing, probably thought he had used them or something.

I'm not going hunting. More like exploring, because if I brought back fresh meat in the middle of the night, my father would be suspicious, very suspicious. Plus, if he did not believe my lame excuse I would get into severe trouble for slipping out and into even more trouble if they knew it was custom for me.

As I set off on the trail leading deeper into the night woods, I remember the first time I had walked down this very same path. It was the day before my birthday.

I was nine.

In our village, the day you turn ten, you become a 'woman'. You help out in the kitchen and in the house so that by the time you turn 12 you are experienced and independent at the job. Before that you go to school.

On top of that I also remember my best friends from school, and how they used to think they could become smiths and doctors while I wanted to see the island.

The only difference between us now is that my dreams came true.

I was scared that last night of me being the innocent little nine-year-old girl. The last night of me being free. I couldn't sleep, so I toke a walk in the forest.

It was only a short walk on the trail I am on now, but it was there and then, when I saw the woods up close for the very first time, that I realised; I didn't want to be an ordinary house girl.

I didn't want to be someone's maid.

I wanted to be something more, something unique.

I wanted to be different.

And from that moment onwards, I have been going to the woods. Every. Single. Night. Each time I'm discovering something new.

After a few of my earliest trips, I had realised I needed something to defend my self with; I needed a weapon.

The dark woods were filled with all sorts of things and creatures. Edible and dangerous. Poisonous and harmless.

For the six months or so that followed I just hid outside my backyard wall carving a weapon. It had to be decent enough to protect me from the creatures lurking in the trees. I had to hide whenever the guards came around to stay unnoticed.

At first I didn't succeed, obviously.

It takes great skill and practise to carve a suitable weapon. Plus it's for a girl, a child really, that stereotypically has less strength which means the bow must be adjusted

All my bows were crooked and snapped too easily or splintered my fingers.

My arrows never flew straight and never in the direction I wanted them to.

I tried again and again with no success.

I had seen my father's weapons up close and men using them but never how the weapons were made.

So I took a day off from the kitchen work, saying I wasn't well, and went to visit the weapon master of our village. I watched all day how he made the weapons for the men and that same night I went out to make my own which I now have with me as I wander the woods in this late hour of the night.

I've never had to use the bow before but that doesn't mean I can't.

I had practised for hours on end to hit even a still target. And it was even harder with the smaller moving targets later on.

I have been to this part of the forest so many times I know the trail like the back of my own hand. I know where every single boulder lies and which twig might trip me. I know which branches hang low and what type of tree each one of them is.

_I know the forest better than our kitchen_, I realise.

There are two reasons why I risk my safety and probably my life after every sundown.

One of is to see what no other girl nor woman in our village has ever seen or experienced before. Things they have only heard stories about from the men; life beyond the village territory.

But the main reason that I come here is that I believe dragons exist.

The elders in our village often tell the youngest of children, who do not yet work in the kitchen and are still in school. They tell stories about the fascinating fire breathing creatures that once lived on this island.

They never talk about why and how the dragons disappeared though.

Our village library has thousands of books on these winged reptiles but even those don't say what happened to them.

I spend all of my free time either in the forest or away form the kitchen in the quiet, book filled rooms. Just sitting there, gazing at the pictures and descriptions of these majestic animals, searching for the answer to my question: where did they go?

I _know_ they exist. Maybe live somewhere secret and are just hiding from us. Maybe on the faraway mainland, maybe on a close by island, or maybe even in the woods I visit every night.

That's what keeps me motivated to risk being severely punished for slipping out at night.

Knowing it might be true. And hope is the strongest of all feelings, even stronger than fear.

Just as the trees of the dense forest conceal me, I see on of the regular guard walking around the perimeter of the village. Alert for danger or any other trespassers like always.

The night-to-night guards have never caught me before, not yet anyway. Hopefully never.

I climb the old, tall, sturdy oak by a spring, just a few feet way form the edge of the woods. Even form outside you can see it standing taller than the rest of the greenwood. It's ancient bark rough under my hand as I climb it. Branches spreading out on all sides. Footholds just perfect for my feet and found every few inches making it easy to climb.

From there, I jump from tree to tree, never touching the ground. Flying between branches with amazing accuracy I have acquired.

I must look like a bird from below and a big one too.

I'm also pretty light and have a petite figure so I don't snap the branches I land on. I'm fast too and since I've had over four years of practise my stamina isn't bad either.

I get as far as the river, which leads to the lake close to our village by leaping across from tree branch to tree branch.

I then have to jump down from the intertwined branches of the trees as they have grown to close together for me to travel by.

From here I know my way even in the gloomiest of nights.

The towering trees block out most the moonlight making the woods seem even more inky than they are at night.

I have never been here during the day but I believe this part of the forest stays under lit through out the day as well.

I break into a run, heading for the clearing I discovered a few months back, and speedily reach the rock fall that block the entrance to my secret hideout.

The rocks around me shine silver in the bright moonlight, glowing like cat's eyes or new coins.

I then push away the big boulder that hides the small passageway between the rocks leading to the clearing. It's not very heavy despite it's size.

It's a tight squeeze, between the rocks, with sharp pointy bits sticking out on every side. The crack in the boulders is not very long either and if you crawl, you might just get away unscathed.

When I'm through the secret passage, I climb down the rocky ledge. Slipping where the moist green moss has grown over the years and eventually reaching the grassy clearing further down below.

The meadow is surrounded by water on three sides, the fourth being the boulders I climbed down.

A fallen tree I use as a makeshift bridge lies over the shallow stream, which runs in a half circle around the solid land. A strip of land lies by the huge cliffs on the other side.

The rippling water, constantly moving and gurgling, reflects the moonbeams and starlight like a thousand little pearls on the tall cliffs surrounding the grassland.

The moss-covered rocks by the river seem to be covered in sparkly glitter while the smooth pebbles glisten beneath the river's wavy surface.

Suddenly, I hear a high-pitched, pain filled cry.

It's coming from one of the caves high up in the immense cliffs.

This cry does not belong to a human. It doesn't belong to any animal I know either. It's different somehow.

The cry belongs to a dragon.

**Hope you enjoyed the story. Next chapter coming up soon. Please review, alert and favourite to keep me motivated!**


	2. Investigation

**This is the second chapter to my story and I will keep writing. Read and review: **

I thought there might be some mistake. Maybe my hearing has failed me. Maybe I'm imagining sounds. Maybe…

But then I hear it again, loud and clear, and I know it's true.

There's a dragon in this clearing with me.

Dragons who have been thought to be extinct for years.

Dragons who have gone missing without a single trace.

Dragons who terrorized the islands.

And now one lies just a dozen meters away from me.

I wonder how it got here. Why is it here? Where did it come from? So many other questions come to mind all at once making my head spin.

Then another wave of questions hits me. What should I do now? Should I tell anyone? Will they believe me?

First, I decide to take a look at the dragon, and second, not to tell anyone.

I cross the fallen tree and swiftly scramble up the side of the sheer cliff where I heard the sound coming from. I climb the cliff just like the wall at the back of our garden.

Just as I reach the mouth of the cave, the dragon stops its agonised cries.

I cautiously peek over the edge and to my surprise see one of the most dangerous dragons known to man, staring right into my shocked green-blue eyes.

It's a Nighthawk.

Normally coloured black, deep purple, midnight blue or scarlet. Their fire being the same colour as the eyes and they have a wingspan of up to triple the width of the body length. Equipped with the usual talons but have sharper teeth than most dragons. This species is not poisonous but is known to be a skilled fighter. They're pretty fast too.

I guess all the time spent in the library pays off and not at all a waste of time.

The young dragon notices me too, slightly raising its head in recognition. The creature lets out a whimper before lowering its head back down again. Keeping a suspicious watchful eye on me.

The dragon is a female. Probably around 6 months old and is a quite deep purple colour with the most beautiful yellow wings.

Unlike other dragons, with spider web designs, the wings of a Nighthawk are patterned with circles of all sizes.

The she-dragon is not very big but I could still easily ride her…

I then notice I'm still hanging off the edge of the cave, which is about 25 meters off the ground. I nearly fall of at the thought of riding the dragon. She could incinerate me with a single huff of her flames. _It's ridiculous for me to even trust her!_

Though part of me still wonders what it would be like to see the island from the sky…

For the first time, I see why the dragon is staying here – one of her thin pale yellow wings is torn in three places. It's heavily bleeding too, leaving dark patches of dried blood.

I must have been so focused on the dragon; I did not notice it at first.

Now that I know the dragon is hurt, I slowly lift myself up onto the cliff ledge sparing me the trouble and energy of trying to hold on. However I never turn my back on the beast.

First I was afraid; I was petrified, but slowly, just by sitting there at the edge of the cave with the dragon, I began to trust the fact that the dragon won't harm me.

The she-dragon is also remarkably thin and hasn't hunted recently. She must have been running from someone or something and flew quite a distance.

The dragon shifts a little, startling me a bit. She stares at me with fear in her large pale yellow eyes and I don't comprehend why.

That is until I see that my bow in front of me, strung and aiming.

It's a natural reflex really.

I lower the bow, putting it down on the cave floor. I know dragons don't trust humans in general, but especially not one with any sort of weapons.

With my foot, I knock it down to the ground below. It lands without making a single sound. I don't really care if it breaks, I can always forge a new one.

Unexpectedly, thousands of birds fly up form the bushes where my bow landed.

The dragon's head snaps up, looking wistfully at the feathered meal. Her eyes watching every their movement.

Slowly it hits me. I back away from the injured dragon and descend back down the cliff face and at the bottom; I retrieve my bow, still all in one piece.

I pick up a rock and, with good aim, I throw it at the nearby bushes.

Immediately a flock of birds fly up. They're quick, but not quick enough.

I manage to shoot down three birds and just miss the fourth one.

I take the kill back to the cave, taking care to leave all my weapons behind; even the knife hidden in my shoe.

Back in the cavern, the dragon immediately perks up at the smell and sight of fresh meat. Standing in the corner, I throw the food to the young Nighthawk.

She devours it immediately: bones, feathers and everything, licking her lips at the end with satisfaction.

I sit there with her a while longer, but then it's time for me to head home if I want any sleep at all.

The one and only good thing about being a house girl is that you can sleep till mid morning, and that's what I do every day.

I don't want to leave the dragon; scared I'm just dreaming and that I will wake up with her gone.

I climb down the cliff face anyway; gather my weapons and leave, making a secret promise to come back again the next day.

The sun is just peeking over the horizon when I see our house through the trees. I noiselessly run the rest of the way and hurriedly hide my weapons and change my shoes.

Staggering into the kitchen I hear my father waking up. Without thinking I hide away my boots and run to the bathroom where I lock the door and turn on the shower.

When I come out, wet and wrapped in a towel, I'm greeted with my father's voice:

"Well look who's up early today! It's sleepyhead Alexa! Now what are you doing up so early? The sun has just risen!"

"I… I… I…" I trail of, clueless of what to say.

Then, without leaving much time for the suspicion to settle, I continue with "…the neighbours dog woke me up. I couldn't sleep any more so I decided to take a shower. I might go back to sleep now though, while I can." And with that I mount the stairs and flop onto my bed, exhausted.

I wake up about after 2 hours, thinking about the she-dragon. I call in sick to the kitchen and tell my dad I'm going to gathering in the nearby fields till late evening, so he won't worry about me if I'm late.

Then, just like last night, head for the clearing only this time I bring something to help the injured dragon.

On the way there I shoot down 4 birds and a squirrel, really using my arrows for the first time.

I get a bit lost. It's the first time I have been in the forest while the sun is still up. Everything looks so different… everything is so much brighter, so much greener, so much more alive…

Only when I hear the she-dragon's voiced pain do I find my way through the seemingly different forest, relieved she's still there.

As I reach the rock fall I realize I hadn't put back the boulder that blocks the entrance in my rush to get home in the early morning.

Eagerly climbing down the mossy rocks down to the clearing, I run over to the cliff where the cave is concealed. Hauling the game I killed with me but leaving my weapons behind, I climb up to the shallow cave where the dragon is concealed.

She notices me immediately and looks at the game with longing in her ice blue eyes. I throw it to her from a distance, not yet trusting that the dragon won't harm me.

I throw her the game and as she gobbles up her meal I lay down the bag full of medicine I brought to treat her wing.

I take out some of the equipment that once belonged to my mother and carefully approach the scaly beast and gently cleanse the horrible wound on her fragile wing.

At first she shrugs away at the touch of my hand, but slowly she drifts into a watchful sleep, never really giving in to the unconscious of her mind.

Once I have washed away the dried blood I begin to really see the wound. It is much worse than I thought. The blood had covered up a lot of it but at least now it's clean.

I go back to my medical supplies. Digging through the bag, not sure what to look for.

I come across some bandages but decide it might irritate the dragon's skin.

Finding nothing useful, I look around the dim cave. Then, something outside in the bright clearing catches my eye.

I recognize the flat leaves we use for patching up holes in our straw roofs and in the villages wooden sheds.

Swiftly I climb down the rocky wall, rip of a few of the oversized leaves and hurry back.

Carefully approaching the dragon from behind, I place two of the leaves on both sides of the wing, covering the biggest hole, and sew it together with some string found in the medical kit.

I do the same with the other two, smaller holes in the delicate flapping devices of the female dragon. For these I use smaller leaves not to make her too uncomfortable and wing seem too heavy.

I sit with her a while longer and it occurs to me; it might be a while before she heals and I can't keep calling her 'she-dragon'. I have to have a name.

Hours pass.

I just sit there thinking of a suitable name for the dragon. Nothing good enough comes to mind so I just sit there staring at the steady rise and fall of the dragon's chest.

Names like Violet and Lola are a little too innocent for her, but Spiky and Roxy just don't fit…

Other names like Featherwing and Oceanmist pass through my mind but sound to soft for the dangerous dragon lying before me.

I decide I like names like Nightberry and Snakewing, as they sound dangerous and are quite suitable.

I ponder over all the possibilities of names till the sun begins to set. I say goodbye to the she-dragon and set off for home.

I walk slowly, unlike last night, knowing I have plenty of time on my hands.

**Well, that's the second chapter done. Please keep reviewing to give me ideas and encouragement. Thanks especially to **** for all the support. She has also written The Spark and Silent Screams as well as Cracked, Broken but not defeated about Haymitch and Effie after Mockinjay**


	3. Names

**Third chapter now. Please keep reviewing!**

Over the next couple of days I work little in the kitchen, mostly visiting the dragon.

I tell the women I work with that I am sick and I don't want it to spread.

I tell my dad working hours have been extended, giving me more time to spend with the she-dragon.

I bring the growing dragon fresh food everyday, which I catch on my way to our secret hideout. She always wolfs it down quickly then looks at me as if waiting for more.

I change the leaves that serve as bandages too, seeing that the torn wing is now healing.

This means the she-dragon could fly again soon.

This means that she could leave me. That she could fly away and never return. And I would have to go back to the boring kitchen work like before. I would probably still go out every night, but maybe then I won't enjoy it as much.

Or the she-dragon could stay.

I want her to stay. I want the dragon I still have no name for to remain here with me, here.

She has been the most extraordinary thing that has happened to me yet, probably ever.

We could be friends and I could ride her when she's old enough. We could explore the island together. We could hunt and fish day and night…

All of these thoughts going through my head remind me of one thing; kitchen work.

_How would I ever get out of it?_ I can't just keep ditching like I do now. I would have to think of something else. Something valid…

I trip over a rock in my path, falling onto my hands, making them sting.

I'm surprised. I must have been so distracted by the future that I had forgotten to watch where I put my feet.

Slowly, I pick myself up form the moist earth and see what had tripped me.

It wasn't a rock that made me stumble and fall.

It was a snake.

It probably isn't venomous, but everyone in the village knows they can still give you a nasty bite, even the smallest of children, who have not yet even begun to work.

Snakes often find their way into the food supplies stocked up for winter. When we find one, we all have to be careful not to get hurt.

Now in an upright position, I force myself to stand completely still even though my legs are telling me to run. Even the smallest movement can agitate the reptile, which is now on my left boot.

I'm rigid all over. Even if I tried now, I don't think I could move, it's like I've grown roots.

Now the snake is back on the ground though, heading for my other boot, I take a step forward.

This one step allows the snake to slither in a straight line without coming in contact with me.

Even after the serpent has disappeared into the bushes, just off the path, I stand there until I can no longer hear the rustle of leaves that the snake makes each time it moves.

Finally free form the long and scaly creature, I continue in the direction of the clearing.

I've been here a few times while it's light and I'm sort of used to the brightness of everything. It looks just like when the sun has set, only more colour-filled and lively.

It's almost midday by the time I arrive to the rock fall.

I had walked slowly due to my twisted ankle. I had sprained on my way down to the clearing a few days back. It was much better now but still hurt every time I put weight on it.

After that time I had forgotten to replace the boulder, I have been careful to put it back as I have often heard men from our village hunting close by. I don't want them to locate my secret hideout that I share with the dragon.

This part of the river here is plentiful with fish and a large amount of birds live here too. If the hunters came I could no longer come here plus they would hunt here until it is as empty of animals as the rest of the island forest.

They would probably also find the dragon.

That is something I have to prevent. I found her. I healed her. I fed her.

I should protect her too. I'm simply afraid of what they might do to her is she is located.

I run across the clearing and leap over the river without even using the tree-bridge. I've done that a couple of times now and it doesn't take too much energy. In a way it's just like jumping through the trees.

When I enter the cave, it's a relief from the scorching sun. The fresh air surrounding me cools me almost immediately.

Now that summer is just around the corner, the days are getting longer and a lot hotter. This cave is hidden throughout the day and stays cool and in the shade.

To my advantage, the long days also allow me to spend more time with the dragon.

At the sight of me the dragon perks up, like usual. Her eyes bright and shinning. It's become a habit for her, I guess.

Her stomach grumbles loudly, eager for the meal I have brought.

I throw the limp animals high into the air, almost touching the cave roof.

For this, the she-dragon has to stretch her neck to catch her meal.

It's good exercise for her really.

She's been in this cave for over a week now, not leaving a single time during her recovery. She's obviously a lot weaker than before.

I sit with her, just complaining to her really, till the sun begins to set. I decide to stay a bit longer with her. _Just till it's dark, then I'll go,_ I promise myself.

I move a little closer, hopefully she trusts me by now, reaching my hand out to touch the dragon.

She's half asleep, eyes closed. Not yet aware of my action. I lean in even closer.

Her eyes snap open and, for a second, I'm almost blinded.

Her lightning yellow eyes shine brightly in the dim light of dusk.

She looks me straight in the eye and the light from her eyes are like a candle, they're luminous.

Then when she looks away, they serve as flashlights, reflecting off the cave walls.

Now I know the perfect name for her.

Shadowshock.

It's perfect. I thought of it just now.

Seeing her eyes for the first in the darkness of the settling night. I've seen them before of course, but they have never been this bright.

"Shadowshock" I whisper to the she-dragon. I then firmly place my hand on her scaly head and whisper her name over and over until I see understanding settle in her eyes.

She then frightens me slightly by breathing out a small flame.

It's the exact same colour as her eyes; it looks like liquid bolts of lightning, illuminating the cave even more than her eyes.

It's only a small amount of fire but I'm guessing it's her first huff, ever.

Dragons are not born breathing flames. They develop the skill over the first few months of their life, then with practice they can blow flames for almost three minutes straight.

Shadowshock must be proud. I know I am, for not leaving her and getting to see this. For sharing this moment with her.

For healing her in the first place.

I still have to leave her here. I wish I could freeze this moment and live in it forever; alone with Shadowshock and no worries whatsoever.

We all wish for things to happen and they don't always do. However I will be back to visit the dragon tomorrow.

I say goodbye to Shadowshock and leave.

**Keep reviewing and alerting and expect the next chapter soon!**


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